Two-Body Problem
by maritess342
Summary: Nick and Jess hang out in the loft. Spoilers for S2x9 (Eggs), S2x14 (Pepperwood), and S2x16 (Table34).
1. Beginning

**SPOILERS: **For the story: S2x9 (Eggs), S2x14 (Pepperwood), and S2x16 (Table34)

**DISCLAIMER**: The characters belong to the show New Girl-I'm just borrowing them for awhile.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**: Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows!

* * *

Things began innocently enough. One day, Jess needed a mug, and on his way to the refrigerator, he grabbed one for her. As he handed the mug to her, their hands touched, and she smiled at him.

_Oh, Jess has a nice smile_, he thought idly.

If Nick had been more vigilant, he would have recognized that stray thought for what it was—a beginning.


	2. Binary Star System

**SPOILERS: **S1x15, Injured

**DISCLAIMER:** I am borrowing the loftmates from New Girl.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** This story was originally a stand alone, one shot. Then, I realized that it was kind of in the same vein as the rest of the stories in the series. Sorry about that! I'll update properly on the leading edge of this story very soon.

* * *

Schmidt, Winston, and Nick walked into the loft. Still chatting about their guys' night at the bar, they started putting away their keys and walking to their respective rooms when a voice called from the kitchen.

"Hey, guys. Perfect timing," said Jess. "I'm in the middle of this paper mache star system, and, funny story, it turns out, I actually need to hold stuff in place as things dry. Could one of you guys help me?"

In unison, the guys looked at one another, made fists, and gave each other a quick three count. On the count of three, they threw their fists and looked down. Schmidt and Winston had thrown two rocks, and the two high-fived each other with their free hands. They looked at Nick, who was swearing softly and still holding his fingers out in the scissors position.

"Nick, my man, it's all you tonight. Peace out!" said Schmidt, as he bro-thumped his chest and walked toward his room.

"Jess, I believe Nick, here, has won the honor of assisting you in your paper mache activities this evening," Winston said, smiling. "Now, if you both will excuse me, I'll hit the sack. 'Night, you two!" Winston waved as he walked to his room.

Nick rubbed his hand over his and grimaced. It had been a long night at the bar.

"Hey, Jess, I'm sorry, I'm really tired, is there anyway I could help you with this tomorrow?" asked Nick. He walked over to the table where Jess precariously balanced two large paper mache globes on far opposite ends of a wooden platform.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Nick. I thought I'd get some stuff done for class next week while you guys were gone, but I forgot how long paper mache takes to dry. It's only another 20 minutes—I can take care of it. Don't worry about it, and get some sleep," said Jess.

"Yeah, thanks, Jess, I'm pretty tired, so . . ." Nick mumbled. He walked to his room, changed into his bedclothes, and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. _Hmm, the light fixture is a little loose—I'll have to tighten that later, _he thought absently.

Finished with his evening's ablutions, Nick turned out the bathroom light and walked back to his room. Out of the corner of his eye, Nick saw Jess, still holding the two globes. She was humming softly to herself and doing a little kick step, as if performing a small show tune to pass the time. Seeing Jess' impromptu performance, Nick gave a confused smile, shook his head, and closed his bedroom door.

Nick turned out the light and lay down on his bed. The evening at the bar had been busy. That night, he had tended to a full house of regular patrons, a bachelorette party, and the overflow crowd from dubstep night at the club next door. Nick had spent the night pouring drinks, flirting for tips, and keeping track of the tabs of the dubsteppers as they hopped between club and bar. Exhausted, Nick closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

Minutes passed, and Nick couldn't sleep. Instead, the image of Jess, in the kitchen, alone, holding up her paper mache project while singing and dancing to herself, played in his mind's eye. Groaning, Nick sat up, rubbed his hand over his face, and left his room.

Nick opened his bedroom door and stepped into the hallway. Blinking to adjust his eyes to the light from the kitchen, Nick yawned and walked toward Jess. "Hey, Jess, you still want some help?"

"Oh, hey Nick. No, I'm good. Get some sleep," replied Jess.

"Nah, couldn't sleep. If you want, I can hold this, here?" asked Nick. He walked over to one of the paper mache globes and held it steady against the platform.

"Oh, thanks," said Jess. Releasing her hold on the paper mache globe held by Nick, Jess walked to the other paper mache globe. Relieved of the awkward position, she rubbed her neck and rolled her head from side to side. "Oh, that's good," she sighed. Jess closed her eyes and yawned.

Nick watched her stretch and yawn. Jess' hair was down and she rolled her head from side to side. Pressing her fingers to her neck, her skin went white, then flushed red as the blood pooled in the indentations. Nick watched has Jess' hair and fingers danced lightly against the delicate flesh of her neck. Briefly, Nick imagined pushing aside her long hair and placing his lips against her skin and wondered whether Jess ever thought of him as a man.

"Nick?" asked Jess.

Nick snapped out of his reverie and blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry, Jess. What did you say?"

She smiled at him softly. "Nothing. I just asked how was the night at the bar. Was it pretty busy? You seem tired."

"Pretty busy, but not bad," said Nick. "I had the regulars, overflow from dubstep night at the club next door . . . "

"Oh! Awesome!" cheered Jess.

" . . . and a bachelorette party." Nick yawned and cracked his neck. "How about you?"

"Oh, you know, grading papers, paper mache solar system, the usual," said Jess.

Nick furrowed his brow in confusion. "But this one isn't ours, is it? This one's got two suns?" asked Nick. He gesticulated toward the two paper mache stars that Jess and he were holding.

"Yeah. We're going over different types of stars and star systems. This one's a binary system." Jess yawned. "So, a bachelorette party?" Jess teased. She gave waggled her eyebrows and gave Nick a small grin. "Good night for tips, then?"

"Oh, I don't know. I think I got a little more than the usual amount, which was good. I need a new mattress, and I've had my eye on this bed at the nursing home which I think I can sweet talk out of the orderlies," admitted Nick.

"Lucky Nick! Flirts with the ladies, ends up with a new old mattress," laughed Jess. "Or, maybe, lucky bachelorette? Just think, her last night as a single woman she gets to flirt with a cute bartender."

Nick replayed what Jess said in his head. A warm sensation rushed over Nick, and he looked at Jess curiously. Oblivious, she examined her paper mache project, humming distractedly. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" asked Nick.

"Oh, nothing," said Jess, distractedly. "The bride to be . . . it sounds like she's a lucky girl."

"Why, because she gets to flirt with a cute bartender all night?" Nick blurted awkwardly. Still embarrassed by Jess' words, Nick turtled his face and looked studiously at the floor.

Jess smiled gently at Nick. "Yeah, that, and . . . I don't know. Marriage is so . . . forever, you know?" Jess frowned softly and looked down. "Spencer and I were together for six years. I guess never really thought about marriage with Spencer, but the cheating and break up really surprised me," admitted Jess. With her free hand, she started tracing invisible patterns on the table. "I was just thinking that maybe, someday, it would be nice to be with someone that I felt like I could always count on."

Nick looked up sharply at Jess and saw his usually cheerful roommate look sad and wistful. At her soft frown, a feeling of protectiveness came over Nick. "Look, Jess, I've said it before, but Spencer was a real jerk," asserted Nick. "I mean, I don't know him at all, but I do know if someone really cared about you, he wouldn't do what Spencer did, and if Spencer wasn't smart enough to realize what a great thing he had by being with you, then he didn't deserve you."

Surprised by Nick's words, Jess looked at him, cocked her head, and looked at him curiously. "Even if I don't know how to be real?" Jess asked.

Nick recognized his words from the night of his cancer scare. He thought of how Jess had stayed with him that night on the beach, offering friendship and comfort. Despite his yelling and criticism, Jess stayed with him and accepted his fear and anger while he faced the possibility of cancer.

"Jess, the great thing about you is that for you, being real means believing that everything will work out all right." Nick smirked softly. "Now, while, quite honestly, that drives me crazy, one day, you'll fall for a guy, and, somehow, that same belief will change the life of that lucky bastard for the better." With all the sincerity he could manage, Nick looked Jess in the eye. "If that guy is smart, he'll realize what a great thing it is to have you around, he'll never let you go."

Suddenly shy at Nick's sincerity, Jess looked at the floor said softly, "Thanks, Nick." Jess gave a small, thoughtful smile.

Nick exhaled a large breath he hadn't known he was holding. Unused to sharing his feelings so openly, Nick nervously shuffled his feet and looked away. "Yeah, well, you know, roommates . . . help each other out. Band of brothers. Whatever. "

Jess looked up at Nick and grinned. "First of all, Ron Livingston—what a hottie. Second of all, does this mean I'm part of the Band of Brothers?"

Nick realized he inadvertently admitted to Jess his acceptance of her into the inner circle of the loft dynamics and scrunched up his face in chagrin. "Yes, you're part of the Band of Brothers! It's not a big deal, okay? We're roommates, what do you expect?"

Jess threw her hands up in the air and danced around the kitchen. "Woo hoo! Brother from another mother! One of the guys! Bros before . . ."

"JESS! Your paper mache!" warned Nick.

"OH NO!" exclaimed Jess. She ran back to catch her paper mache globe before it fell and found it steadfastly glued to the platform it was placed upon. "Oh, yay! The glue is dry! I guess I don't have to hold it anymore. How about yours, Nick?" she asked him.

Nick gingerly removed his hand from his paper mache globe. It stayed solidly attached to the platform as well. "Yup, mine's dry too." He looked at Jess, who was smiling happily at him. Her eyes were shining with happiness and her cheeks were tinged pink with the effort of jumping around and dancing. Fighting the unexplained urge to hug his roommate, Nick shoved his hands in his pajama pants pockets and said gestured towards his bedroom door with his head. "Well, I should get some sleep, so . . . goodnight, Jess."

"Goodnight, Nick. And thanks for helping me put together my project tonight," sang Jess happily.

Seeing Jess' smile and hearing her happy thanks caused a twinge of pride in Nick. "Yeah, well, if you ever need help again putting something together in the middle of the night, you can count on me."

"I will, Nick. Goodnight." Jess smiled and waved as Nick walked to his room.

"Goodnight." Nick opened the door to his room and took one last look at his roommate. She was humming softly to herself and putting away the craft supplies for the night. As he watched her move around the kitchen, an unexpected feeling of affection washed over Nick. Tired and confused, he shook off the feeling as the result of too many hours awake. Still smiling softly, Nick closed his door and went to sleep.


	3. Lonesome George

The next time it happened, Jess was knitting and needed someone to hold her yarn. Nick was next to her on the couch, watching a documentary on turtles.

"Wow can you believe this turtle? Over 100 years old, and the last of his kind. Sounds kind of like the Highlander, you know? 'There can be only one.'" said Nick.

Jess looked up from her knitting, and replied, "I don't know Nick. Wasn't the Highlander the one where the other Highlanders killed each other to get power?" She looked down at her knitting and frowned. "Lonesome George sounds like he wants other turtles of his kind, but there just aren't any. And he's lonely. Maybe that makes him more like The Doctor," offered Jess.

Nick furrowed his brow in confusion. "The Doctor? Doctor who?" he asked.

Jess smiled. "Exactly, Nick."

Confused by her answer, Nick turned from his TV show and looked at Jess. She was smiling softly and hummed softly to herself as she knitted. Nick shook his head and asked, "So, Jess, this is what you do with all that yarn that I can't mess with?"

Not looking up from her knitting, Jess replied, "Yup."

Nick looked back at his TV show. "What are you making?"

"A blanket."

"For who?"

"Whom."

Nick fought the urge to roll his eyes; Jess could kind of be a know-it-all sometimes. "For _whom _are you making the blanket, Jess?"

Jess stopped her knitting and spread out her work. "One of my friends is having a baby, so I thought I'd knit her a blanket. Well, I thought I'd knit her baby a blanket. I guess it's too small for her." She looked down at the small blanket and examined her stitches. Blue and white stripes zigzagged across the surface of the blanket in neat rows, and the blanket covered a small 2ft by 3ft area across her legs and the couch. Pleased with her work, Jess bundled the blanket back into her lap, and continued to knit.

"Hey, Nick."

"Yeah, Jess?" he replied.

"Can you hold my yarn for me? I'm almost done, so it wouldn't be for long, but there's just too much yarn and blanket."

Nick grimaced and turned to Jess. "Is this going to be a thing? If I say yes, am I going to have to hold your yarn every time I watch TV while you knit?"

"No, Nick. Just this one time. Please?" Jess held out her skein of yarn and gave him a little smile. "If not for me, then for the tiny human being for whom I'm knitting the blanket?"

Feeling his grumpy resistance give way, he closed his eyes, rubbed his face, stuck out his hand and took the yarn from Jess' outstretched hand. "Just this one time. For the tiny human being." He turned back to his TV show.

Jess smiled and finished knitting the blanket. Snipping the last of the yarn from the skein dutifully held by Nick, she stood, shook out the blanket, and showed him her work. "See Nick? A blanket! For a tiny human," she beamed at him.

He looked up at her as she showed him her finished work. Dressed in her pajamas with her hair down, Jess looked happily at her blanket and chatted about her decision to knit blue and white stripes. Satisfied with her work, Jess' blue eyes twinkled softly with delight.

A supportive roommate, Nick replied, "Jess, the blanket looks great. You did a good job. I'm sure they'll like it."

"Thanks, Nick," Jess replied. "And thanks for helping me." Jess smiled at Nick, reached out her hand and placed it on his shoulder.

Surprised by the unexpected touch, Nick froze for a second and felt the warmth from her fingers on his shoulder. Embarrassed by the physical closeness, he blushed violently and ducked away from her hand. "Oh, no problem Jess, any time," he said without thinking.

Two blankets, one scarf, and 5 episodes of Planet Earth later, 'Nick holding Jess' knitting yarn while watching TV' had become a thing.


	4. Limoncello

The fourth time it happened didn't involve any words. Jess was sick with a cold and had stayed home from work. Deciding to take it easy, she camped out on the couch with a stack of magazines, tissues, cold medicine, and a DVD of Under the Tuscan Sun. Tired from the cold and comforted by the familiar story of Diane Lane's search for self in Italy, Jess fell asleep on the couch.

Having worked the nightshift at the bar the previous night, Nick woke up around noon and walked out to the living room. He saw his roommate, asleep on the couch, surrounded by tissue and cold medicine. On the TV, Diane Lane was celebrating a meal with her makeshift family of contractors. Nick signed and shook his head.

Quietly, so as not to wake Jess, Nick heat up some water in the microwave and made a bowl of cereal for himself. Looking through the cabinets, he found Jess' stash of teas and chose something with lemon. _Lemon has Vitamin C, right? That's good for colds, _he thought to himself. Plunking the sachet of lemon tea in the hot water, Nick walked to the living room, put the mug of tea next to Jess' cold medicine, and retreated to his room with his breakfast.

10 minutes later, Jess woke up from her nap and blinked. Diane Lane was flirting with an attractive dark-haired man, Jess was surrounded by tissue, and a mug of tea had appeared from nowhere. She watched wearily as steam rose from the lip of the mug and disappeared into the air. From the direction of the bedrooms, she could hear movement from Nick's room.

Sighing, she reached out for the mug and took a sip. _Oh, lemon. That's good for colds_, she thought. As she sipped her tea, she hummed contentedly, and watched as Diane Lane fell in love over shots of limoncello.


	5. Writer's Block

The fifth time it happened, it happened in reverse, although Jess didn't know about it.

Nick sat in front of his computer and opened his word processing program. A sheet of blank white . . . whiteness blinked to life in front of him . He stared at it, thinking.

Jess walked by the open door of his room and saw Nick staring at a blank screen. Curious, she knocked on the door and poked her head inside. "Nick?"

"Yup?" he asked. Hearing Jess' voice, he didn't turn around and continued to look at the screen. Still nothing had come to him.

"Can I come in?"

Nick sighed. Closing his eyes and running his hand over his face, Nick swiveled his chair to look at Jess. "Sure," he replied and gestured for her to sit on his bed.

Jess walked into his room and sat on his bed. "How's the novel going?" she asked.

"Fine. I finished Z is for zombie, you know, a while ago . . . "

"A tour de force of zombie literature!" she enthused.

" . . . and I was thinking of writing a sequel, or at least another zombie story. But I'm having a hard time figuring out where to go, now, with the writing," admitted Nick. Sitting in his computer chair, he crossed his arms, crossed his ankles, and stretched his legs out in front of him. "It's like, with that first novel, I had planned it out for so long, and once I got it down on paper, I wasn't sure what to do next." Sighing, he looked at Jess. "I don't know, Jess. Maybe I'm not a writer. Maybe that was it—one zombie novel, and I'm done."

Jess looked at Nick thoughtfully. He was slouched down in his chair, curled into himself and sitting with his arms crossed over his chest. She knew how protective Nick had been with his dream of writing and how fear of failure had, for the longest time, prevented him from finishing Z is for Zombie. Now that he had finally taken that leap and finished his novel, he needed to convince himself that his one literary achievement hadn't been a fluke. She considered her words carefully.

"You know, Nick, I never really thanked you for encouraging me to get out there and get a job," said Jess. "I mean, I could have done without the water acrobatics part, but some of the stuff you said, about not doubting myself and just getting out there and trying . . . it really helped me. I meant to thank you for that."

Nick shrugged, secretly pleased with her words, "Jess, I didn't do anything."

"No, Nick, you really helped. You reminded me that even if I lost my job at the school, no matter what, deep down, I'm a teacher—that's what I do, that's who I am. And I just needed to go out there and find a way to be who I was," said Jess. "And now, I teach an adult education class on creative writing. I knew nothing about creative writing before teaching this course, but because I care about my students, and because I'm their teacher, I taught myself about creative writing, because that's what teachers do. They care about their students," confessed Jess.

Jess looked at Nick, and he listened to her with careful interest. No longer sitting with his arms crossed, he had shifted his weight forward, opened his stance, and placed his open palms on his knees. "And you're a writer Nick. You're a writer, because that's what you do, that's who you are. And maybe you're having a hard time right now, but because you're a writer, you'll stare at that screen and eventually, something will come to you, and you'll write it down. And fix it. And write some more. And fix that. And before you know it, you'll have your second zombie novel," concluded Jess. She gave him a small smile.

Nick seemed to consider what Jess had said. Taking a deep breath, he huffed it out noisily. "Well, Jess, as a teacher of creative writing to adults, what would you suggest I do with the story?" he asked.

Jess's smile broadened. She felt happy that Nick was still considering writing his story. "Well, there were three tips that seemed to help the students in my class. One—write what you know. Two—write what you love. And three—when you get stuck, begin with the end in mind. Start at the end. That way, at least you'll know where you're going even if you get lost on the way."

Nick gave a small laugh. "Well, at least those are easy to remember. I was worried you were going to have me living as my characters or doing months of research or something."

Jess laughed too. "Well, those are second semester creative writing techniques, and I haven't gotten to those quite yet." Jess stood and started to leave Nick's room.

"Hey, Jess. Thanks," said Nick.

"No problem, Nick. Just name a character after me, sometime, and we'll call it even," she teased as she left Nick's room.

With the quiet _snick_ of the door closing, Nick heard her leave. Turning back to the screen, he thought to himself, _write what you know, write what you love, and begin at the end. _ Nick was from Chicago, and knew the Second City inside and out. He loved figuring things out, even if it was just how to put together a dresser or how to grow tomatoes. _So, it'll be . . . a zombie story about a detective from Chicago? _he thought. _Not half bad_, he thought to himself.

Typing at his computer, he began entering a list of characters. _Julius Pepperwood, zombie detective from Chicago, _he typed at the top. He stopped and thought about having a sidekick for his protagonist. An image of Jess as she walked from his room appeared in his head. '_Just name a character after me . . . and we'll call it even,'_ she had teased. Nick smiled and typed, _Jessica Night, spunky, know-it-all sidekick._

Nick smiled to himself and started writing his second novel.


	6. Trench Coat Nick

By the time Jess celebrated the 1-year anniversary of her movie to the loft, Nick had done many things for Jess. He had been the tea-maker, phone-caller, dresser-assembler, zombie protector, and Candy Cane Lane car-driver. Even after their fluffing conversation, when Nick had defined his boundaries with Jess, Nick continued to do things for Jess—to help her.

This time, however, he needed to do something for Jess to apologize for ruining her life.

In a fit of self-determination and uncharacteristic courage (_That damned trench coat! _he later thought), Nick had grabbed his roommate and kissed her.

The kiss had been fantastic, deeply satisfying, and, for Jess, life-changing. After hearing about their kiss and punching Nick in the throat, Sam had broken up with Jess.

Seeing her cry into a glass of wine, Nick undulated his body wildly to Taylor Swift's music. _This is definitely not on the list of things I ever thought I'd be doing,_ he thought. Seeing Jess still crying and unmoved after his impromptu dance, Nick sighed. For once, doing something wouldn't help Jess, not in the way she needed. So using his words instead, he apologized.

"I'm sorry, Jess."

She looked at Nick. At the earnestness of his words, her anger softened and a bit of her broken heart had been mended, softly, back into place.


	7. Defying Gravity

**SPOILERS:** S2x03 (Fluffer), S2x16 (Parking Spot)

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own New Girl or its characters

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**: Thank you for the favorites, follows, and reviews. Quick props for Einstein, to whom this quotation is often attributed: "Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love." (I've always wondered why the expression for learning to be in love with someone is "Falling in love".) Apologies to Einstein, and I hope y'all enjoy the chapter.

* * *

Over the next month, the loft became too small to house the awkwardness of Nick and Jess' unresolved sexual tension. In the weeks since they had kissed, Nick and Jess had felt increasingly uneasy around one another. A shared glance, a smile, or an accidental touch would cause each to view the other with equal parts suspicion, embarrassment, and hope.

Nick and Jess had also behaved with increasing distraction. On more than one occasion, a daydreaming Jess had left an oven mitt in the oven, along with her baking goods, while thinking about their kiss. Meanwhile, to distract himself from Jess' shiny hair or the delicate nape of her neck, Nick had taken to aimlessly hammering pipes in an effort to 'fix' things around the apartment. As Nick and Jess warily circled around each other, between the two of them, the apartment was slowly descending into chaos.

One Friday evening, Schmidt returned to the loft from work. Looking around, he saw Jess' baking ingredients and yarn strewn across the kitchen while Nick's tools were haphazardly left around various surfaces of the living room. Slamming down his messenger bag and tossing his keys to the floor, Schmidt yelled, "That's it! Loft meeting! NOW! Nick, Jess, please come into the living room so we can discuss the state of your affair."

Surprised by his vehemence, both Jess and Nick exited their bedrooms. Meeting awkwardly in the hallway, Nick and Jess tried to avoid eye contact.

"Ladies first, Jess," Nick said as he gestured for her to walk ahead of him.

"After you, my good man," replied Jess as she gave him a little curtsy.

They both moved to walk ahead and nearly avoided bumping into one another.

"Sorry, Jess, you can go first," muttered Nick.

"No, it's okay, Nick, go ahead," said Jess. She danced an awkward tap shuffle and extended her jazz hands toward the living room.

"We'll go at the same time," replied Nick. They tried to walk forward together, but both Nick and Jess tried to walk on the left side, and then the right side of the hall.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Jess, would you just go ahead already?" cried Nick in exasperation.

"Before my body, I lay my warlike shield! Lay on, MacDuff!" Jess yelled. She got behind Nick and tried to push him in front of her.

"What are you doing?" cried Nick. "I am not your warlike shield!" he yelled as he tried to get her to stop pushing him.

"STOP IT!" yelled Schmidt. Walking into the hallway, he got behind both Nick and Jess and ushered them both into the room.

"Now, when I left here this morning, I distinctly remembered leaving the loft with a spotless kitchen and a well assembled living space. This, lady and gentleman," Schmidt said as he gestured to the mess in the kitchen and living room, "is neither spotless nor well assembled." Schmidt walked back to where he had thrown his messenger bag and keys and gathered his belongings. "Now what would have happened if I had decided to take home a lover tonight? To romance a young woman with my wit . . ."

Nick groaned.

" . . . or my roguishly handsome good looks?" Schmidt grinned cockily as he gestured with one hand to his face.

Jess huffed a loud, "HAH!"

Schmidt's face grew serious again. "I'll tell you what would have happened. I would have invited said charming young lady to experience a night of wonder and magic with me, and instead of taking her on a magic carpet ride of pleasure . . ."

Nick made a turtle face.

" . . . and ecstasy . . . "

Jess rolled her eyes and threw herself into the couch.

" . . . the only thing I could have offered is a humble walk through the detritus of your awkwardness and unresolved sexual tension," concluded Schmidt. He looked toward the kitchen. "Jess, is that ANOTHER burned oven mitt?" Schmidt asked.

Jess shrugged noncommittally and said, "Um, yeah, maybe."

Schmidt gestured toward the living room. "And Nick, my man. Really. What did we decide about pipes last week?"

Nick looked sheepish. "No hammering pipes in the living room."

"NO hammering PIPES in the LIVING ROOM!" yelled Schmidt.

"GUYS! ADJUSTED SCHEDULE!" yelled Winston.

"AH!" everyone yelled in surprise and turned to look at him.

Wearing a t-shirt, pajama pants, and robe, Winston walked into the living room and blinked sleepily at everyone. "Look, I've got two more hours to sleep before I have to do the show, and I would LIKE to spend that time SLEEPING" Winston emphasized.

Winston yawned and pointed at Schmidt. "Schmidt, stop yelling at Nick and Jess. They are adults, they pay rent for the loft, and, as long as they clean up after themselves before the night is done, no harm no foul, man." Schmidt gave an exasperated grunt and rolled his eyes.

Winston cracked his neck by moving his head side to side and pointed at Nick. "Nick, stop hammering on pipes in the living room. First of all, it's loud, and I can hear you in my bedroom. Second . . . there is no second. Stop hammering pipes. It just ruins the pipes." Nick looked at the ground, chagrined.

Winston stretched his chest muscles by pulling his elbows up and to his sides and looked at Jess. "And Jess . . . please stop burning the oven mitts." He yawned. "Oh, and did you make blueberry muffins?"

Jess nodded her head.

"Those are my favorite, so can I have two for work later?" asked Winston.

"Yeah, sure Winston," said Jess, smiling.

"Cool, thanks Jess. I appreciate it," said Winston. Turning his attention to all three of them, Winston took his leave of them. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go back to bed. See you in two hours." Winston started walking to his room.

Schmidt, looking annoyed, finished gathering his belongings and shook his head at them. "Awkwardness. And Unresolved. Sexual. Tension." Schmidt intoned slowly as he left the room.

"SCHMIDT!" yelled Winston from his room.

"Okay, I'm going!" yelled Schmidt. He continued to look at Nick and Jess and silently mouth the words "Unresolved. Sexual. Tension." as he walked to his room.

Mortified, Jess grabbed a couch cushion, threw herself into a prone position on the couch, and hid her face with the cushion. "Kill me now, Nick."

Nick grunted and sat on the couch. He rubbed his face with his hand and said, "Oh, no, Jess, me first. It'll be just like that game, Clue—Professor Plum, in the living room, with the . . . "

" . . . lead pipe," finished Jess. She gave a small laugh, pulled the couch cushion off her face, and sat up. "They don't know what they're talking about Nick. There's nothing going on!"

"So we kissed! Big deal!" exclaimed Nick.

"Sure! What's a little frenching among friends, right?" asked Jess.

"Nothing! It means nothing," agreed Nick.

"That's right! Nothing!" concluded Jess.

"We should show them," said Nick. "I bet we could kiss right now, and it wouldn't be awkward at all. I bet I could take you in my arms . . . "

Jess' eyes widened, her eyebrows raised, and her cheeks flushed pink.

" . . . Hold you close you to my body . . . " Nick started pantomiming his actions. He postured his hands as if holding someone's back and neck.

Jess, watching him, suddenly felt the need to wrap her arms around herself and stroke the nape of her own neck.

" . . . and kiss you . . . " said Nick. He looked at Jess. Jess was staring at him with her big blue eyes. Her cheeks were tinged pink with a slight blush, and she was stroking her neck with her fingers. He watched as she lightly bit her lip with her teeth. Her lip turned dark red with pressure. She released her lip from her teeth, leaving her mouth swollen, lips slightly parted, and gasping for quick shallow breaths.

" . . . and it would mean nothing," trailed off Nick. Watching Jess, Nick's breath caught, and a wild heat coursed through him. Her swollen lips taunted him from across the room, and he needed to bury his suddenly empty-feeling hands in her hair. Instead, he shoved his fisted hands in his pockest and looked at Jess intensely.

Jess saw Nick's eyes darken, and she gulped audibly. "Nope, nothing at all. I feel nothing. Heh heh," she laughed awkwardly.

Just then, Schmidt walked out of his room and into the kitchen wearing a kimono. The loud "click" of his door as it shut behind him broke Nick and Jess' reverie. Seeing Nick and Jess caught in each other's orbit, Schmidt rolled his eyes, did an about-face, and walked back to his room. "A man just wants to eat a seaweed salad in his own home. Is that too much to ask?" exclaimed Schmidt, walking back into his room. He slammed his door shut

"I'm just gonna go . . ." said Nick. He gestured wildly toward his room.

Without making eye contact, Jess turned away and replied, "Yup, me too, gotta grab an oven mitt . . . "

"Okay, see you later . . ." Nick walked to his room.

"Yup . . . " said Jess as she went to the kitchen.

"Yup . . . " Nick slammed his door shut.

Both Jess, alone in the kitchen, and Nick, in his bedroom, took a deep breath and exhaled it noisily. _What was THAT?! _Jess wondered. _That was too close!_ thought Nick.


	8. Welcoming the New Mrs Miller

**SPOILERS: **For S2x20 (Chicago)

**DISCLAIMER:** The characters and plot are not mine! I am borrowing both characters and plot elements from New Girl.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**: Thank you for the reviews, follows, and favorites! And also thank you for your patience with my constant re-revisions. Please enjoy the (somewhat angst-filled) chapter!

* * *

Jess stepped through the glass doors to the roof of the loft. The cool night air bit her cheeks and carried wisps of her hair aloft. Looking up, she saw the night sky, inky blue-black and twinkling with stars. Shutting the doors behind her, Jess stepped onto the roof and braced her bare arms against the cool night air.

Nick was standing at the edge of the roof, looking over the wall into the night. Jess walked up to Nick, stood next to him, and waited for him to speak.

Not turning around, Nick acknowledged her presence. "Hey, Jess."

"Hey, Nick."

They stood there, silently, looking over the city for a few minutes.

"It's chilly tonight," said Jess. "Well, chilly for LA, I guess."

"Yeah, chilly for LA," Nick laughed softly. "You know, when I first moved here from Chicago, it took me forever to get used to this."

"Used to what?" asked Jess.

"The sunshine. The warm weather. The cars." Nick made a sweeping gesture with his hand toward the city lights. "I mean, all of this . . . it was like a completely different planet, coming here."

Jess turned and looked at Nick. He was staring thoughtfully into the night, shaking his head.

"When I first came here, I was just this kid from Chicago, you know? Terrified. It was the first time I left home, and everyone I knew was back on the other side of the country," said Nick. "I came here with a box full of clothes that I ended up donating because they were too warm, and I spent that first week just trying to decide whether I wanted to spend the cash that I had on either a junky car or a deposit on a really terrible apartment."

"So then what happened, Nick?" prompted Jess.

"Schmidt happened," admitted Nick. "After about a week, I bumped into Schmidt. Right after college, he had moved to LA with his other friend, Benjamin. They had a car and drove me around, and let me crash on their couch, which meant that I could save my money while I found a place to live. By the time I entered law school, their lease was up, Schmidt and I had saved enough money for the deposit on the loft, and . . . "

" . . . and?"

" . . . and then, eventually, LA became home, you know?" said Nick. "Then Winston came and left, then Coach came. And law school. And Caroline . . . I don't know. Chicago was where I was from, but somehow, LA, and stuff in LA, became my life."

"Yeah, I know, Nick," murmured Jess.

"And then I dropped out of law school, and then Caroline left, then Coach left, and Winston came back."

"And I showed up?" offered Jess.

"And you showed up," agreed Nick, smiling softly. "And through it all, Jess, there's been me, just me. Just getting by." Nick's face turned thoughtful again. "I moved here to do something with my life, to become a lawyer, and now, ten years later, what am I doing?" For the first time, Nick turned and looked at Jess. "What am I doing, Jess?"

Jess studied Nick's face. Since his father's funeral, Nick had gotten little sleep, and worry lines had started to ink themselves around his eyes. The night air ruffled the tips of his hair, and Nick had pulled the sleeves of his zippered hoodie down his arms to ward off the chill. Carefully, Jess reached out and covered Nick's fidgeting hand, making it still. Wordlessly, she turned her face back toward the night sky.

Nick looked intently at Jess. The wind was blowing strands of her hair across her face, and goosebumps had risen along her arms. Silently, Nick pulled his hand from hers, slid his arm around her back, and pulled her to him. Jess slid her arm around Nick's waist, and fitted herself into his embrace. They stood side to side, looking into the night.

"You know, my father always had a plan, but he never planned things. He never planned his life. He was always going from one scheme to the next, sure that the next one would hit it big," said Nick. "But they never did. And then, that was it. And somehow, after 30 years of plans and arrangements and schemes, that was all he had." Nick lowered his voice and asked, softly, "What if, after 30 years, that's all I have, Jess? What if I spend all my time just getting by, waiting for the right moment or chance to do something, and in the end, I miss it and all I have left are plans?"

Nick turned and looked at Jess. His eyes were warm and bright with feeling, and he looked intensely at her. "Nick, you loved your father. You will always love your father," replied Jess. "You share a lot of things with your father, like your charm and your smile," said Jess, as she smiled softly. "But you are not your father, Nick." Jess faced Nick and returned his gaze. "You are Nick Miller, and you're different." Jess looked at Nick until his gaze softened and he turned away. Jess sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. "And your father didn't have nothing, Nick. He had a family. He had Bonnie and Jamie and you," said Jess. "He had you, Nick. And he loved you and was proud of you." She squeezed Nick with the arm wrapped around his waist.

Nick turned and buried his face in Jess' hair. Lost in a sea of vanilla, Nick relaxed into her embrace and mourned his father. Turning in his arms, Jess faced Nick and wrapped her arms around him.

Jess stroked Nick's back comfortingly. Tilting her face, she kissed Nick's cheek and whispered, "You goin' be okay, mama?"

Nick sniffled a little and laughed. "Yeah, I'm gonna be okay mama," he replied.

With his eyes still closed he said, "You know, Jamie's going to invite all of us up for his wedding later this year." Nick pulled his head away from Jess', cupped her shoulders with his hands, and looked at her with a small smile. "And you know, because my ma likes you, that means you're gonna have to come up with all of us to the wedding."

Jess looked at Nick and smiled. "I think a Miller wedding would be fun."

Surprised and a little doubtful, Nick gave a soft turtle face and shook his head in amused disbelief. "Really, Jess? After an all-Elvis funeral, with a drunk Elvis impersonator at the service and an actual crying hound dog at the reception, you still think a Miller wedding would be fun?" Still holding Jess in his embrace, he slid his hands down his arms till they were holding hands.

"I do, Nick. I do." Jess squeezed his hands with her own and smiled at him. "What about you, Nick? Do you think it's time to welcome a new Mrs. Miller to the family?"

Nick looked at Jess. He briefly thought of his mother and Jess hugging, and how his brother, Jamie, had taken right away to teasing her. He remembered the warm feeling he had, seeing her sitting in his childhood home talking to his grandmother. He recalled the rush of pride and embarrassment he felt as he watched Jess examine his childhood momentos. A rush of affection came over Nick, and he looked at Jess and squeezed her hands. "I do, Jess. I do."

Nick lowered his face till his lips touched her forehead, and he kissed her brow gently. Wrapping her in his embrace, they stood close, touching foreheads with their eyes closed. Nick held Jess in his arms, and the two of them stood on the roof, seeking and giving comfort in the night air.


End file.
